Sharpen
by Faered
Summary: Avalanchers, Turks and the heart of ShinRa Electric must learn to depend on one another to survive as a crisis threatens the very existence of the Planet. Dark whisperings about treason and sedition descend upon Midgar. Note: Possible Reno/Rude.


**Final Fantasy VII  
**Avalanche: Sharpen

**Disclaimer  
**Final Fantasy VII™, and any characters or other story elements contained herein that are not the original creations of the Author, are the property of Square Enix®, or other third party copyright holders. Any original characters or story elements contained herein are the property of the Author, and may be reproduced without restriction where the appropriate credits to the Author are included. This document may be reproduced, provided that any notices and notes are included unchanged.

**Rated "M"  
**This document contains strong coarse language, graphic violence, and adult themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised. (Any persons who are less than sixteen years of age may not proceed further. Persons who are not able to view such content due to local laws may not proceed further.)

**Summary  
**Midgar—a sprawling mechanical kingdom, ruled by none other than ShinRa Electrical Company. It is here that Cloud Strife, and the members of Avalanche, work to destroy the monstrous reactors that the ShinRa have created—so that perhaps, with some luck, the Planet might be saved.

**Author's Note  
**Whoo! It was neat writing this chapter—I wanted to create a sort of "darker" version of Midgar (though it was quite dark to start with). The story starts with Reno and Rude, but we do get back to the game's primary characters rather shortly. I just thought that this would make an interesting starting point. There's probably going to end up being some slash happening, so the squeamish amongst you, consider yourselves forewarned. And to everyone, enjoy—please include a review with your comments, to better my development and provide for more enjoyable chapters to come!

**

* * *

**

Chapter One

**Plumes of Smoke**

Reno stared out the window of his dark apartment. The only light that pervaded his space was cast in by the city lights outside, turned into something much stranger by the odd smog that crept about every nook and cranny of Midgar's upper world. Reno could feel his eyes becoming heavier and heavier, as he refused his body's demands for rest.

Sirens sounded outside—not an uncommon background noise for Sector Three. Reno looked skyward, as those high-powered beams of light based around Shinra Headquarters danced about the clouds above. Even though Reno had known Midgar for as long as he could remember, there remained a sort of uneasiness. It was a feeling that he could never quite shake, nor reason away—and it was something that he dare not mention to his friends or colleagues.

No, certainly not—Reno's job required the utmost of strength and unwavering discipline. Unease, whatever the cause, had no place within the mind of a member of the Turks—and Reno knew this. Nevertheless, there was something particularly strange about tonight. It was perhaps just a feeling, but Reno simply couldn't let go of the irrational impression that something extraordinary was going to happen tonight.

His hand brushed some stray strands of his red hair away from his eyes and back into place, and he turned away from the window. Walking toward his bedroom, with the glow of Midgar at his back, he sighed. He reached into his dress pant pocket, and removed a small container of pills. Popping the cap, following a brief battle with the child-proof concept, he swallowed one of the blue and white capsules.

Closing his eyes, he could feel that familiar, comfortable blanket wrap around his mind. He needed this re-assurance, this protection, that his memories were just that—only memories. And at that, memories that would not be repeated.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, startled by his sudden vibrating pocket—he pulled out his sleek black PHS, to see Tseng's name on the screen. He stood for a moment and calmed his breathing, and put on the cool façade that his colleagues knew as "Reno".

"What's goin' on, Boss?"

"I need you in Sector One. Rendezvous with Rude in Sector Two, he's already on his way." Tseng's voice, even when he spoke with urgency, always sounded calm and collected. Reno very much looked up to Tseng, though he'd never let it on. In any case, the situation had piqued Reno's interest.

"What's going on? Why Sector One?" Reno asked.

"We have a possible intruder situation. More details on arrival."

The PHS clicked as Tseng hung up.

Tonight was apparently about to get a lot more interesting. Reno threw on a fresh white shirt, grabbed his jacket, and rushed out his apartment door. The metal doors whooshed shut, and the clicking sound of the lock gave Reno the last signal that he needed to bolt down the hall.

The sounds of his hard and hurried footsteps echoed through the concrete corridors of the apartment building as he rushed toward the stairwell. He could have taken the elevator, but the building was an old one—it was faster just to leap and bound down the stairs than to wait for the creaking elevator to struggle to and from its destination.

Pushing open the door to the cold and dim stairwell, Reno jumped down the sets of stairs, three or four steps at a time, his unpolished black shoes pounding against the concrete. His eyes caught a spattering of blood against some of the steps as he sped past the fourth story—the remnants of an assault, even a murder, were not an uncommon occurrence for any urban Midgar locale.

Reno leapt down the last seven steps, hitting the ground hard, and swung the heavy metal door open. He lunged through the doorway, and ran straight through to the main entrance. Reno stopped for a moment and gasped, at the caress of the cold air against him. He took a second or two to put on his jacket properly, and buttoned up his shirt—though only two or three buttons. He'd argued with Tseng on countless occasions about the dress code of the Turks, and recently, Tseng had simply stopped bothering to argue about whether Reno's dress shirt was properly buttoned-up.

A few steps to the right, Reno's motorcycle was chained to the building. As the unlocked chains dropped to the ground, he reached his leg across and hoisted himself atop the old machine. As he revved the engine, the motorcycle coughed up black plumes of smoke, and the deafening roar of the thing caused Reno to wince.

Now properly seated, Reno sped through the crowded parking lot—narrowly missing several creatively-parked cars—and onto the road. Knowing that there would be few others on the road so late (or rather, early), Reno was comfortable speeding up and down the narrow roads; he weaved about, around corners, and up alleys, until his motorcycle came to merge on the Intersectional Highway.

The highway touched each of Midgar's eight sectors—it ran like one enormous ring around the entire city. Since there were no speed restrictions here, Reno pushed the motorcycle as fast as it would go, weaving around the few cars and trucks that were actually around at this hour to shave precious seconds off his time.

No more than one hundred metres ahead was the large neon sign that read "Exit to Sector 2"—Reno careened toward the right-hand-side of the road, and sped up the exit ramp.

As Reno rode through the streets of Sector Two—seeing the theatres and boutiques on either side, and the higher-class townhouses and high-rises—he felt a bit of a pang of jealousy. Reno had a better salary than Rude, and yet somehow Rude was able to pay for a place here in Sector Two—it made no sense, and yet there it was.

Reno slowed down as he approached one of the several buildings of "Sector Two Terrace", Rude's townhouse complex. Reno came to a stop at the open garage of Rude's home; he laughed as he saw Rude, under the hood of his car, playing with some part of the motor. Somehow the situation was comical—here they were, supposed to be en route to one of Tseng's assignments, and here was Rude tinkering.

"What the fuck are you doing?" asked Reno, the amusement shining through in his voice quite clearly. Rude and Reno had been partners in the Turks for several years now, and they knew each other better than anyone else did. Even though their missions tended to be dangerous (sometimes bordering on insane), Reno always felt as though—with he and Rude working together—he would end up on the other side of the mission safe.

"It's broken," said Rude, rather bluntly.

Reno paused for a moment. Usually they drove Rude's car—last year's model of the ShinRa Chimera—to and from their missions. Of course, Reno had also stopped to ponder, on several occasions, as to how Rude had managed to pay for that [very expensive] vehicle.

"Oh well then," started Reno. "Guess we're takin' my bike!"

Rude stood motionless for a moment, seeming almost reluctant.

"C'mon, big guy, we need to get a move-on or Tseng's gonna be pissed." Reno waved Rude over, and the taller man eventually started to step toward the clunky, exhaust-spewing noise machine. He stopped when he reached the bike, apparently unsure how to proceed. "Okay, get on already," said Reno.

Rude took one more step toward the motorcycle, then awkwardly reached his leg around the back seat. He seemed to hesitate getting too close to Reno, intentionally keeping a few centimetres between them; he grasped the metal frame of the motorcycle beneath him.

"Okay, you know what?" started Reno. "You're gonna fall right off the fuckin' bike like that. Just hold onto me, okay?" Reno looked back over his shoulder and for a moment—only a brief, fleeting moment—saw something he'd never seen before in Rude's eyes. He wasn't sure what it was, and it was far too short-lived to consider it much further. "Hurry up!"

Rude leaned forward and reached around Reno's body. Reno's breath stopped for a moment, as Rude's chest rested against his back, and Rude's arms hesitantly held one another across his abs. Rude's chin rested against Reno's right shoulder, and Reno turned to see his face—both men had a sort of smirk on their faces. Despite their long-term partnership and friendship, they very rarely came this close to one another. Rude tended to always keep a physical distance from others, even his friends and colleagues.

"Let's go," said Reno, remarking to himself for a brief moment about the sensation of Rude's breath against his face. Reno turned to look forward, flustered, and with an unfamiliar—but not unpleasant—feeling in his stomach. He revved the engine again, and they sped off toward Sector One, leaving behind the broken Chimera—and a cloud of black smoke.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

The next chapter is almost done, so stay tuned for more. I greatly appreciate any reviews and comments that you might have—even suggestions for future chapters or arcs. When I started the chapter, I had no intention of exploring the Reno/Rude madness that may now ensue... my mind gets carried away, hehe. Let me know what you think, ciao for now!


End file.
